


See you in life Beyond

by SesshaTetsuko



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Universe, Drama & Romance, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-08-10 02:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16461530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SesshaTetsuko/pseuds/SesshaTetsuko
Summary: For as long as he remembers, life had never been easy for him. So when carefully-buried memories are brutally awakened, the worst can happen... *A long canon post-Jinchuu story, including most of RK's main characters, depicting how Kenshin tries to survive his inner demons, and how he and Kaoru finally became a family...*





	1. The instinct of a father

**Author's Note:**

> _**Disclaimers:**_ The original author of RK is Nobuhiro Watsuki (does anyone in this section ignore this, by the way?)
> 
> For those who could ask and to close the debate, I am among the people who separate the work of their author. You can get a great message and be yourself a marginal. Many creative geniuses were crazy, and if we crush our environment with the mill of modern Western morality we can clearly remove a large part of our arts and our history books. This being said that I absolutely do not endorse this kind of behavior, and if you have doubts I urge you to read my story until the last chapter, you will probably have the answer to any question you might have about my opinion on such a heart-tearing subject...
> 
> I recommend you absolutely the three live action films about Kenshin released these last years (Rurouni Kenshin, Kyoto Inferno, The end of the legend), where the main actor Takeru Sato is doing wonders, and whose music sets and saber scenes choreographies are nearing perfection...
> 
> I would like to see more fanfiction about RK, so here is a potentially long story that will show most of the different protagonists of Rurouni Kenshin universe... (a small note anyway, some themes raised here are rather adult so I recommend you to skip this story if you are under 16, provided that I am not wrong with the ranking recommendations of this site of course). I am not a native english writer, so I must ask you to excuse my poor writing (and please tell me if I make any mistake).
> 
> Enough of speaking, "on with the fic"!

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_Year 11 of the Meiji era, 3rd quarter of the Gregorian calendar. Somewhere around Kyoto ..._

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Hiko Seijuro felt a tremendous pain hit him.

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He'd had a bad feeling that evening. The kind of presentiment that binds your guts and paralyzes your spine. The continuity of a strange malaise that had lasted for several months. But since he was certainly not a man to be swayed or depressed, he had gone to practice as always, at that same waterfall where he used to train his only disciple in the past.

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_Really, what could happen on such a beautiful night...? ___

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Surrounding him, the almost full moon was at its zenith and the soft air of early spring was blowing peacefully. More than anything he enjoyed these nocturnal kata sessions... They were invigorating his body, relieving his mind, releasing his ki. Thinking back with nostalgia at the time when he was not alone on these secluded rocks, he raised his eyes to the star-crossed sky.

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It was another, much more tumultuous epoch, in a land where suffering and human desperation were daily bread. Among all, his disciple had one of the most difficult childhoods. From what little he knew, a hard, authoritarian father, who spoke preferably with his fists and pushed his children to exhaustion in the fields, hoping to prepare them for the harsh trials of peasant life. Shinta was too small, too sickly to survive, he had told him. Between looting and epidemics, in those years the sons of the soil had difficulty feeding their families. His mother seemed loving but hardly ever present for the family because of her weak constitution, and he had mentioned brothers and sisters, without expanding on the subject. Probably one of the things his memory had chosen to erase to protect himself. Then the cholera epidemic had struck, ravaging the small mountain village. A sickness born in filth, ruthless, showing his victims literally emptying from the inside before dying of dehydration, most often lying in their own excrement. The young Shinta, miraculously escaped from that bacterial onslaught, was then left alone to dig the grave of his relatives. At six years old. The remaining adults in the village who were too busy saving those still living all the while trying to stop the spreading of the disease had logically no consideration for funeral rites, and sold the orphan to slave traders. It was probably better for him ; the remaining inhabitants could not decently take care of a child too young to work and with whom no one had bond anymore. The epidemic would in the end extinguish the whole hamlet in the following months... But as the dark hours of Bakumatsu were approaching, the slavers were no longer kind souls. They would not bother with mouths to feed unless they certainly earn them money... so a young boy with an effeminate face, eyes and hair with exotic colors, too thin to defend from their adult bodies...

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The new apprentice had never talked about this period with Hiko, but he understood what had happened while listening to his nightmares, night after night. He had been tied up, abused, raped as a commodity, just like the women who were transported with him. These things were unfortunately common place at the end of the Edo era. Seijuro had felt a deep anger by realizing the damage done to his young disciple, but railing against people who were already dead by his own hand was a shot in the dark. All this was simply part of the harsh reality of that time. Still, Shinta had buried these people. Against all odds, he had chosen to fight to become stronger, pushed forward by an inexplicable wish to live and help the others. He never had seen a child with so much determination. Pushed to the ground, he would get up, thrown into the water, he would learn to swim, beaten to hell and he would still raise his bokken to protect what he cares about. Such a rage, such a purity, such talent... A perfect blade to be forged by Hiten Mitsurugi school!

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Yet he should have known that this fierce child would not stay long at his side. Hiko had been secretly heartbroken when he had seen his pupil throw himself straight into the whirlwind of revolution, making him one of the greatest murderers of his century. At each of the many lives taken, each passer-by who would shake like a leaf at the mere mention of Battosai's dreadful name, Seijuro regretted having taken him under his wing and passed on his precious legacy. And when he had heard of the death of his wife Tomoe by his own hand, his sentence had reached its peak.

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_Himura Kenshin... shall never cease digging graves ... ___

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Hiko looked lazily around the landscape. The milky way in the sky and the ocher moon, the sound of the waterfall upstream.

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_...and standing up after all. ___

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He still remembered the day he had unexpectedly come back, ten years later, eyes stricken by fatality... but at the bottom of which still shone that same obstinacy: to help fellow human beings with his body and soul. The renegade student had returned home. Hiko had felt the pride of being his master anew, even though he had never voiced such feelings in his presence. Never would he have dared to hope rebuilding the ghost of a relationship with his former disciple before, but... Although he could not admit it, their destinies had been inexorably linked from the day he had chosen to give a name to this little being with strange blood-colored hair and cerulean gaze...

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Emerging from his reminiscences, the aged master methodically resumed his kata. Like an old song, his perfectly coordinated and controlled gestures were slicing through the air with indecent ease. The gracious yet strong moves were melting into the rock and the water of the landscape, allowing the martial choreography to create its own life and sublimate the perfect night scene. Hiko Seijuro, shaped of powerful muscles and sharp mind, was a real force of nature.

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...And it is precisely in the midst of this well-known dance that the tremendous pain came to strike him.

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The tall man suddenly collapsed to the ground, lifting masses of dried earth in his path, his body pressed by an occult power. An evil of a rare violence was piercing him from one side to the other, brutally removing the air from his lungs, as if... as if he had been stabbed in the chest, right aside his heart.

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_What on earth is happening?! ___

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He spread his ki with all his might in hope of countering the invisible blow. The pain was nailing him to the ground. He could not breathe anymore. He, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi, the undefeated, was overwhelmed by a force he knew nothing about. That's when he was struggling to get up that he had this instinct. This terrible instinct only a father has for his child.

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"KENSHIN !"

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_  
Somewhere in the veil of darkness, a forgotten soul was in torment._

_Unbeknownst to the gaze of living ones and conscience, it dreamt of death as a liberation every night._

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> **Next chapter : Hanami**  
>   
> 
>  
> 
> Take some time to write me a little review to tell me if it's worth it for me to continue, and to reinflate my box of courage! ;+)
> 
> (I probably wrote a lot of mistakes, english being not my native langage ; I therefore accept all the criticisms, positive as negative - provided that they are constructive of course -)


	2. Hanami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  __  
>  **A/N :** thank you so much for your comments! :) Sharing is the first motivation to writing a fanfiction (that, and a huge fan-spirit haha)!
> 
> Here is a lexicon for those who would like one :
> 
> _Sessha:_ it's the pronoun Kenshin uses to talk about him; in the Japanese version, he rarely says "I" but uses sessha instead (except when he is in a murderous mood, in which case he uses "ore" which is much less polite), which is an ancestral and humble way to designate oneself from what I've understood (a little as if he was depreciating himself). Like a lot of other authors, I translate it by "this one" in english. He also uses the expression "gozaru" in almost all of his sentences, which is an old and very polite way of expressing himself that he's the only person to use and that gives him a very particular and characteristic phrasing compared to other characters in Japanese, that I have chosen to translate by "that I do..." (like many authors also). He also expresses himself very differently when he is an assassin, all these nuances enrich the characters but they are often lost to the benefit of translation (in my country that's the case).
> 
> _-dono:_ Japanese suffix of politeness used to designate a person. As some others, I would tend to translate the "Kaoru-dono" that Kenshin uses in "miss Kaoru", but again the Japanese language has precise notions that are difficult to transcribe.
> 
> _Edamame:_ preparation of immature beans of soy (or branch bean) cooked in boiling water
> 
> _Hanami :_ Japanese traditional custom to appreciate the beauty of flowers, mainly cherry blossoms (sakura), when from late March or early April, they enter full bloom.
> 
> _Onigiri:_ rice balls wrapped in nori seaweed triangular or oval, they can be stuffed with dried plum, grilled fish ...
> 
> _Shôchû:_ liquor of barley, rice or buckwheat ...
> 
> _Sumimasen:_ "I'm sorry" or "excuse me" (translates literally from Japanese: "there is no reason to give")

Exhaling slowly, he focused his cerulean gaze on the peaceful scene in front of him.

The sacred trees were adorned with a thick white and pink veil, petals falling of their branches in graceful volutes, covering the ground with a pearly carpet. This year the bloom of cherry blossoms marking the beginning of spring in Japan had been late due to a harsh winter. Thus, when the long-awaited hanami had finally arrived in Tokyo, the shores of the Meguro River were filled with people looking for a time of contemplation among the trees or a simple reunion with their family.

Yahiko being gone to celebrate the event with the Akabeko's team -in other words, with Tsubame-, the owner of the Kamiya Kasshin dojo and her newly stated lover, Kaoru and Kenshin, were for once alone. They had chosen an isolated corner near the wooden bridge, where the young kendoka had set up a purple fabric on which a few provisions were arranged : home-made food, water freshly drawn from the dojo's well, two cups and a bottle of traditional shôchû. The couple had arrived in the early afternoon, and were now pecking some edamame and onigiri, sitting across from each other.

_I wonder what goes through his head when he has such a look..._

While they were enjoying the gentle air of the shore, the master of Kamiya Kasshin was thoughtful. Ever since they were here Kenshin had remained mostly silent, merely watching the petals fall away. In fact, it had been almost fifteen minutes since the samurai had last blinked.

_...Is he still reminding himself of the Bakumatsu? Or mourning after Enishi's incident...?_

"...Kenshin?"

Only the sound of the wind, twirling between the leaves, answered her.

"Kenshin ?!"

"Oro?"

"You don't look like you're here with me. What were you thinking about?"

"Sumimasen, Kaoru-dono..."

He willed himself to smile. Coming back to reality, in this place where plum and other floral scent were filling his nose, was each time a trial.

"This one... was trying to enjoy the calm, that he did."

"Mmh you're right, life can be so restless at the dojo... Wait, were you making fun of me?"

He put his hands up as an apology, deepening his grin.

"This one wouldn't dare."

"You better not, silly rurouni!"

Kaoru gave him a hundredfold smile, naturally illuminating the blue irises of her eyes, the same ones that had touched by their innocence almost a year ago the deeply buried heart of the samurai. The urge to caress her cheek briefly crossed Kenshin's mind, but he immediately chased away the nasty thought. On the other side of the shore, in the distance, they could hear children screaming while playing in the water. They were, after all, surrounded by other people.

The wanderer dipped his lips in his shôchû and then stood up, gnashing his teeth discreetly, feeling a slight pain crossing simultaneously knees and ankles. His joints were easily aching for some time.

_Megumi was right..._

"I must admit," she continued, "it's a good thing Yahiko is starting to be a little more independent. He's becoming an adult now."

_And that leaves more time for both of us now..._ completed the young kendoka inwardly.

These moments were so rare. From the time she had met Kenshin, between samurais looking for revenge, former assassins who planned to overthrow the government and the missions that the police trusted him with regularly, it was difficult for them to progress in their relationship. Ever since the former Ishin Shishi had agreed to definitely stay at the dojo instead of wandering, they had only begun to get closer. And the fact that she was hiring more and more students in the Kamiya Kasshin school wasn't exactly helping...

"I wonder... how will this story with Tsubame end?" she said with an amused smile.

He caught a petal twirling towards the ground.

"... Kenshin? Are you listening to me, or are you in the clouds again?"

"ORO?"

He laughed softly. To see her so happy, or even angry, still warmed his heart. To see her alive.

"This one thinks that Yahiko is grown enough to fend for himself, that he does..."

"You mean, even in the matters of the heart?"

He came to sit right next to her. Slightly closer than what the decorum of that time required.

"...sometimes, you have to let things happen on their own." the redhead added.

He intentionally brushed Kaoru's sleeve with one of his feather-like touch then sneaked his arm behind her neck. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he forced her brown head to come resting gently against his chest. He was so close that she could smell the sandalwood perfume of his hair, who helped by the wind, were rhythmically caressing her face like reeds would brush water on the shore.

"Let's rest like this a little, if you want it..."

Without releasing his embrace, Kenshin refilled a cup of shôchû and drank it quietly. Then closed his eyes. Coiled in his arms, Kaoru took precious advantage of this moment. Her soon-to-be husband had such a confidential nature that he usually barely touched her. And right now, she could almost hear his heart beat. After all that they had been through, they were finally beginning to enjoy happiness together...

How could things have gone wrong?

In the police station of an umpteenth district of Tokyo, Goro Fujita alias Hajime Saito, former captain of the fearsome 3rd battalion of Shinsengumi, defenders of ancient Kyoto, was about to receive a major task.

He had now operated for several years in the security of the new capital under an assumed name, his previous achievements having earned him a position of officer burdened -or gifted, depending on the point of view- with many responsibilities. But most of all, under this cover he was still applying Mibu's wolf motto, which allowed him to live according to his conscience.

_Aku. Zoku. Zan._

Slay Evil Immediately. Wolves remains wolves, even hidden in Western uniform and holding an unholy cigarette.

"Well... I wonder where this whole mess will lead us..."

Today in the early morning he had received an alert from both Kyoto and Osaka Police Department, informing him of an ongoing case that according to them could also spread to the district of Old Edo. A serious business, at first glance. If help on this issue was requested throughout Japan, it probably deserved to be treated first and foremost.

"Pfff..."

Saito considered the voluminous and discouraging wad of mail with particular attention.

_A lot of reading to come ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> **Next chapter : First glimmers of evil**  
>   
> 
> I made a fairly fast update, since the first three chapters are much shorter than the following ones. This story, quite long, will gradually increase in power, but its climax will not be watered down (that's a promise!) ;)


	3. First glimmers of evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **A/N :**_ thank you SO MUCH for your help (I try to do my best for I hate mistakes -they give me the feeling that the writer doesn't care about his creation-, but I still have a hard time with translation), corrections have been made at once! ;)
> 
> _**Lexicon:**_  
>  -chan: suffix used to designate children (Yahiko-chan could be translated roughly as "little Yahiko")  
> -Jou-chan: it is a way to address a woman younger than oneself with some lightness, this is how Sanosuke calls Kaoru  
> -Kitsune: vixen  
> -Boken: wooden training saber  
> -Maa maa: "well, well" (literally: like this like this)  
> -Yare yare : "better and better"  
> -Furoshiki: cloth used to pack objects using a ritual folding method, long used by Japanese to transport objects  
> -Saké: rice alcohol (note: there are almost as many different types of saké in Japan as there are wines in France...)  
> -Futon: traditional Japanese bedding, a kind of thin mattress placed directly on the floor  
> -Makura: small pillow stuffed with buckwheat pods  
> -Shoji : sliding partition, with wooden frame and translucent paper

It was one of spring's first sunny week in the new capital, after a fourth season which had proved to be labored that year. This morning, only the last sighs of winter's chills were still being felt, and the dew perched on budding leaves was sliding to the ground with the help of a slight wind. 

Every inhabitant of the Kamiya dojo -including its brawler and its wanderer- was busy with its favorite task : Kenshin was doing the laundry, Kaoru was chasing her disciple through the yard, Yahiko was being chased by his assistant master, and Sanosuke aka the brawler was chewing obsolete remains of a fish carcass while waiting anxiously for mealtime.

"Phew ..."  
The former Sekihotai let out a sigh, dusting his jacket with a lascivious gesture. His belly was clearly yelling famine.

"Hey Jou-chan, when ya're finished with the shoutin' match, could ya tell me if there's somethin' to eat 'round here?"

Sanosuke Sagara had the nasty habit of giving nicknames to most people who were hanging around him, as if calling someone by his first name suddenly risked causing him in an oh-so-fatal form of spontaneous combustion. So Kaoru was Jou-chan, Megumi was Kitsune, Saito had inherited of the wolf and Yahiko-CHAN was self-sufficient.

"Why you..."

Kaoru suddenly stopped her race to point a finger at the streetfigther.

"How dare you even speak of that?! Don't you know you can bring food and cook it by yourself like a grown man, instead of always complaining!? "

Her eyes spoke of hell's chasms and sulfurous vengeance. Sanosuke took a preventive step back, and Yahiko, glad that the attention was momentarily diverted from him, took this opportunity to move to a safe place – which happened to be in that case right behind Kenshin's back. He knew from experience that the situation could quickly deteriorate ...

"Maa maa do not argue," said the wanderer, pulling his hands out of the soapy water. "This one will take care of it as soon as he finishes the laundry, that he will."

Strangely enough, Himura was revealing in repetitive daily chores, as if to compensate for the chaos that had been his life so far. Except for a few intimate friends, most people who knew him back in the days of Bakumatsu did not understand that a former cold-blooded assassin, in this case a patriotic leader occupying a key position in the revolution, could be satisfied with such a routine.

_A simple, normal family life... he has probably never known that before,_  thought Kaoru whose gaze softened at the sight of the samurai humbly hunched over the basin, sleeves rolled up, a patient smile on his face. The soapy bubbles were going up to his elbows and formed a frothy beard under the cheek where he had previously wiped his hand.

"I'm glad to know ya're the one making miso today, Kenshin," Sanosuke continued. "Haven't recovered yet from last time Jou-chan cooked and my guts literally tried to get out of my tummy!"

"What the hell..."

The young kendoka's eyes flashed instantly. Kenshin could have sworn he saw drool running down her chin.

"... I feed you for FREE and that's all you have to s-"

"Is tha' a reason for trying to poison me ?!" the accused rebuked, pointing at her too (yes, Sanosuke sometimes had suicidal tendencies).

"It's true that you aren't spoiled by nature busu ; as thin as a plate and unable to bake anything edible... "Yahiko rectified, feeling compelled to place a comment to calm the situation, always bravely sheltered behind the wanderer.

"A little respect for your master! RHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA "

Thus Kenshin -or rather his face- received a boken, two stools, five bowls, and three daikons. His defence resulted in :

"Orororororooooo ..."

"Kenshin, I'm so sorry!"

Kaoru realized too late that the red-collapsed form on the floor was innocent, and rushed to his side.

"Yare yare," said Kenshin, rubbing his head, "This one is fine, Kaoru-dono."

The samurai could have easily dodged each of her projectiles, even catching them flying and sending them back in one movement. The stool by the way, properly launched, could have made a nice whiplash injury ... But Kenshin was uncomfortable with showing his talents of former assassin, acquired in a context as painful as macabre, nor to use his incredible capacities in a harmless environment that did not require it. Note also that Kaoru was a proud master of kendo who did not deserve in the eyes of the wanderer to be humiliated or discouraged by such behavior. Above all, the mere idea that his beloved might one day be afraid of him or feel physically threatened, and therefore begin to act cautiously around him, was enough to make him feel nauseous.

As he got up, he did not fail to _accidentally_ brush Kaoru's hand, whose face immediately went through six distinct shades of scarlet. The two lovers got up as quickly as possible, spending the next few minutes trying not to look clumsy.

A classic day, in other words.  
A little too much maybe...

"...Excuse me?"

All heads turned towards the entrance gate of the dojo where a young man was standing, his black hair strictly brushed, dressed in a navy uniform trimmed with white at the ends of the sleeves. It was cut short at the level of legs, revealing sober satin shoes on which were mirroring perfectly the metal sheath of his saber.

"Can I help you?"

The mistress of the dojo approached the newcomer, who did politely salute in return.

"Agent Kyosuke, I wish to see Himura-san," he informed, "I have a letter from Officer Fujita to give him."

"If you look for him, this one is here," The wanderer instinctively took place between Kaoru and the stranger before greeting him quickly, taking the paper directly from his hands.

"So what does it say? "asked Yahiko, who had instantly hurried to join the three adults.

"It's a letter from Saito..." Himura mumbled as he was decrypting the katakana lines. He did not answer more, focused on reading the document.

"Huh, that's all...? Don't keep the information for you!"

While the unique pupil of Kamiya Kasshin was starting the well-known dance of 'plz-tell-me-I-need-to-know' and Sanosuke was discreetly asking the postman if he did not have some money to lend him before realizing at the same time that he was instead a policeman, Kaoru was watching closely the samurai whose dorsal muscles had momentarily tensed.

"Can I see it...?" She said, gently slipping her head over his shoulder.

He crushed the paper in his hands.

"...What's the matter?"

The expression on Kenshin's face froze, then a cautious smile crawled across it. 

"Saito asks this one for help on a mission."

"Well?"

"This one does not really know what it is for now. We'll see that later, that we will," he said, crouching again in front of the wet basin." Agent Kyosuke, please convey to Officer Fujita that he can count on this one's help. "

"Understood, Mr Himura. He will be delighted to hear that. "

With that, the policeman withdrew and the wanderer resumed its work, showing obvious attention on the cleaning of a hakama, returning exactly where he had stopped it before being interrupted by all this fuss. His mind, however, never really returned to the task at hand.

Seijuro Hiko completed his furoshiki in no time.

A spare outfit, his purse, equipment to sharpen his katana if necessary and of course his faithful jar of saké hanging on his belt. Nothing else was needed to cruise the roads. Of pragmatic nature, the master never cared about such insignificant material details.

Honestly, he was far from pleased to go on another trip. The mere thought of confronting this stinking, swarming and uneducated mass that the people outside his forest were was enough to give the hermit heartburn. Unlike his disciple who had wandered most of his life, Seijuro was rarely leaving his mountain. As for that terrible intuition that he'd had about him... Hiko still did not understand what that meant, but after spending several days running around in his hut trying to solve the impossible equation, he had reluctantly resolved to leave. In almost forty years his instinct had never deceived him.

In haste, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi began his journey to Tokyo ...

In the middle of the night Kaoru was awakened by moans-like noises. Enjoying busy days, it was rare for Kamiya Kasshin's master to be a light sleeper.

_What the...?_

It was almost three o'clock in the morning and the neighborhood's streets were theoretically empty at this hour. As she focused on her hearing, she had the feeling that they were coming from the place where the samurai slept. Had he shouted so loudly as to pull her out of her sleep? Or was her audition playing tricks on her?

_Whatever... I cannot take the risk of something happening to Kenshin._

Rather than thinking about this subject blindly, she decided to endure the coldness of the night, and stood up. The young kendoka feverishly put on her yukata before lighting a candle of wax, then discretely opened the next room's door...

Curled up on the edge of the futon, makura ejected on the floor, Kenshin was twisting around furiously in his bed. The cover was unstructured to the point of discovering his torso, riddled with scars. Although unconscious, the wanderer was aimlessly opening and closing his lips, as if talking to the wooden ground. And, to her surprise, he did not seem to be aware of her presence at all this time. She kept her ears open.

"Tomoe..."

His face was fully contracted.

_... He's speaking in his sleep?_

"Tomoe"

His arms were moving in all directions. He turned his head again, his features marred by the expression of intense pain. The kendo teacher was watching him with a mix of astonishment and horror.

"K-Ka ... o ... ru ..."

Grabbing his skull in his hands, he almost tore a bunch of red hair with his grip. The young woman felt her heart tighten. 

_Is he dreaming of our deaths...?_

Her decision was made... She entered the room, knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. He was cold but covered in sweat.

"Kenshin. I'm here, "she whispered," I'm fine ... "

The wanderer did not react, his eyelids still vigorously closed.

"I'm here," she continued, shaking him slightly.

"No..."

He was biting his lips so hard that a discrete trickle of blood escaped from them.

"Nooooooo ..."

_He doesn't hear me ..._

All the while struggling he continued to moan, contracting his muscles at a strenuous pace. Despite the repeated words and gestures of the young woman, nothing was enough to wake him up. Kaoru continued for a few minutes before giving up. 

_It's no use. He's gone too far ..._

She didn't want to shake him too badly either. The wanderer needed rest. Reluctantly, she closed the shoji of the room and silently went back to her own bed. Falling anew into the arms of Morpheus was hard enough that night, for the young woman was saddened to see the former Ishin Shishi still fighting the endless demons of his past. He would never tell her about those in the morning, but she suspected his nightmares to be much more frequent than what they actually could see...

The samurai, for his part, continued to struggle violently against his invisible enemies. After a few minutes, he finally seized the guard of his sword, which contact was frozen.

"NO!"

Kenshin awoke abruptly. His whole body was shaking. Tears were running down his cheeks and his heart was beating wildly. Only the silence and the cold twilight of the night surrounded him, but his mind was still engulfed in the long-winded abyss of his memory. He took several minutes to realize that he was just in his room. And that all this was only a vision.

He waited until his body stopped shaking. Let the tears stop flowing. He dropped his blanket, took his katana and stood up.

Enough sleep for this night.

Kenshin entered the police officer's desk directly without being announced, causing a panic attack to the receptionist he had greeted nonetheless. The tyrannical Goro Fujita was particularly meticulous about procedures, and that included the one about never disturbing him without warning.

Mibu's wolf and former patriot were staring at each other.

"Saito."

"Himura."

"I received your letter."

"Well, that'll save me a boring speech."

"Tell this one the facts."

When they were both alone, their relationship was fundamentally different. Patience and politeness were out of place between former adversaries who had exchanged more saber blows than greetings.

"You're even more irritable than usual Battosai ..."

The former Shinsengumi silently noted the rings under the indigo eyes of the redhead. He grabbed a large blue binder resting on his desk, from which ink-filled leaves were partly coming out. And began to peel them...

"The facts, Saito," repeated the wanderer.

"You are therefore aware that the police of Tokyo, Kyoto and even Osaka are investigating a large-scale case of disappearance ..."

He took out a document, where colorless portraits were drawn.

"Children, precisely."

Himura winced.

"Hm. And what do you expect from me, exactly?"

"Nothing."

Saito took a breath from his cigarette. The wanderer was nervously touching the handle of his weapon.

"Nothing so far, I just want you to keep wide-open eyes around you."

"This one is already doing so."

"...And to report any suspicious behavior to me," the officer finished.

Himura nodded. The officer put the bundle down carefully. Even sorting out the news sent by Kyoto forces had asked him a considerable amount of time.

"When I'll have a need for you to intervene, I'll call you back," Saito concluded, turning his back to the window. "For now, I don't have any more information."

The wanderer did not need to be asked twice.

"Understood, this one does not like this kind of case either."


	4. About Ceramists and Housekeepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexicon:  
> Gomenasai: forgive me  
> Kami-sama: my God  
> Izakaya: small bar with an intimate atmosphere where you can eat and drink until late hours  
> Baka: silly  
> Arigato: thank you  
> Setta: rice straw sandals  
> Shinai: bamboo training weapon

Sitting in seiza at the end of the training room so as not to disturb the endless flow of shinai, the wanderer was watching attentively the activity under his eyes. Kaoru was training students of Maekawa dojo in addition to her own. As a result Yahiko was redoubling of effort, proud of his master's teachings and eager to show his technical superiority against the opposing school. Sweat, quick gestures and kiai cries filled the air.

Giving lessons for another dojo allowed the young kendoka to support as much as possible the needs of the house, helped in this task by her only disciple, who although unable to pay for his lessons participated in living together by bringing a little money from his work at the Akabeko. Sanosuke, on his side, sometimes helped as a docker at Yokohama Port, his imposing physique allowing him to carry heavy loads. Thanks to this livelihood he was able to finance things like his nocturnal escapades. Above that, he had recently developed a strange fascination for ships coming back from abroad, and all the stories of unknown countries swimming with them...

Only Kenshin, unemployed, was out of step compared to his young companions.

Having always experienced poverty as a child and then wandered for more than 10 years as a penniless and homeless wanderer did not do anything to help things. He had lived so long without thinking about the next day, indifferent to the fact that his own death could happen from one moment to another, that changing his way of life now that he had settled at Kamiya dojo was very difficult. In fact, he had to relearn everything, having absolutely no personal reference of standard family life. Thus, if surviving had become one of his specialties, money remained a mysterious data for him, since absent during most of his existence. As a result, he had trouble caring for it, associating it personally neither with need nor with happiness.

Kaoru seemed to understand this, since she never pushed him in that direction, and for this he was secretly grateful to her. He had tried to look into it, but ... what could he do? His level of writing and reading was barely passable and he had only learned the art of the katana, developed more particularly that of murder, a perfectly useless competence in this new Meiji era he had sweated blood and tears to build. He did not want to transmit the Hiten Mitsurugi (his own youthful failure regarding the values that his teacher wanted to teach him was damaging enough), and the professions of policeman or bodyguard had proven to be a formidable stimulant for his innate assassin reflexes that he desperately tried to bury. Not to mention the fact that he did not like to go away of the dojo for a long time after the traumatic incident of Enishi, and that sometime, his body began to make him pay for all of his swordsmanship years...

_Finally, this one might not be suitable for this new era ..._

He focused his gaze again on the young students before him, and on the life that emerged from them. Basically it did not matter to him to be obsolete, if these people could know the happiness of a peaceful life. That was the reason he had fought for and would fight again.

Kaoru was in the center of the room, and she was performing a series of kata demonstrations for her students. She was lifting her shinai at full speed, hitting her arms and hips in different directions, her feet resting each time in very particular points on the ground. These were traditionally rigorously codified exercises where each gesture mattered.

Although he had initially come to see her out of sheer curiosity when he arrived at the dojo, Kenshin's eyes had become much less innocent since he had begun to develop feelings for her. Because if the young woman was just emerging from adolescence, his own adult life was already well under way, and his body was often painfully reminding him of that... which had earned him to this day many cold water buckets, meditation sessions and other nocturnal baths. Worse, since he had started courting her without allowing himself to touch her, training sessions had literally turned to torture. To see her waving fiercely in this low necked man's outfit, sometimes revealing her tightly bandaged chest, was enough to bring his blood on fire. Moreover, her incredible agility made him wonder what kind of acrobatic positions they could u... -Kenshin took a deep, long breath.

_This one will definitely have to go back to the river ..._

Chasing these ideas did put his self-control yet strong at severe test. Himura was also careful not to stare at the young kendoka too intensely, for fear of frightening her with the ardor of his thoughts. Concealment was after all a specialty among assassins. Kaoru was executing the movements with precision, causing her slim yet robust body to be covered with a thin layer of sweat, which slid down her neck and lower.

_The river, the cold river ..._

While Kenshin was struggling internally, all the students seemed captivated by the current demonstration. The master of Kamiya Kasshin performed kendo with a grace and tenacity inherited from her father. All except a boy who was standing aside, a pout on his face, apparently bored by all fo this.

She seemed to have noticed it since it was to him that she spoke first.

"Gyôsei, come to reproduce the exercise, I will mime your partner"

" Why me?" He replied, exaggerating his grimace.

_He doesn't seem to want to work this morning,_  his master noted irritably.

"You're lucky she's the one taking care of you," Yahiko replied, waving his shinai. If you don't want to do any more katas, I'll be happy to be your opponent and kick your ass, idiot! "

If slackers were people of the worst kind for the brave first Kamiya Kasshin disciple, men who were not interested in martial arts were just downright aliens.

"Stop arguing, boys!" Kaoru continued without losing her concentration. "Come on Gyôsei, put yourself in position. "

The young man reluctantly complied. He began to realize his series of movement awkwardly, the assistant master reproducing them identically in front of him, then quickly lost patience. Kaoru countered every shot, but Gyôsei became more and more abrupt and rough in his gestures. After a while, clearly angry at having been put to work and ridiculing himself in front of his classmates, he aimed a shoot that was not intended in the choreography directly at his teacher's ribs. The young woman, although surprised, saw his attempt and narrowly dodged him, but the aggressive gesture did not go unnoticed by the redhead sitting in the back of the room, who had suddenly raised his head.

"Well," Kaoru noted, "you still lack coordination ..."

"Pfff ... what's the use of learning these choreographies? It's not even a real fight! "

"It's you who are the real moron! argued Yahiko who was regretting not having previously kicked the damn boy's ass "If you cannot even master that you'll never be able to fight! These are the basics, the ba-si-cs! "

The two boys stared at each other fiercely. Meanwhile, the wanderer had risen from the corner of the room, unbeknownst to everyone.

"Gyôsei, right?" He said with a smile. "You do not seem to have really grasped the concept of kata. "

" ...What do you mean? "

_Why does it matter to him? If even the housekeeper of the dojo comes to annoy me now!_ Gyôsei already had no desire to come to class, only obeying the order of his parents, but if in addition everyone fell on him ...

"That stroke at the ribs was not in the demonstration. "

The boy clenched his teeth, displeased that his little hanky-panky was noticed.

"So what... ? "

"This one will be your partner. "

Without waiting for his answer, the samurai grabbed a training sword hanging from the wall. Gyôsei looked at him with a hint of apprehension. He had never noticed how callused his hands were, nor that his usually high-pitched, even feminine voice could become so low. Not to mention, did he not have a sword hung on his hip? The impulsive boy was suddenly intimidated by this scarred man with tawny hair, who had suddenly decided to take part in their training...He had been coming at the Kamiya dojo for some time now and from memory this guy was only satisfied to observe them without speaking, occasionally smiling in a honeyed or even silly way. If only he had been told that this man could do something other than cooking or washing laundry...

"Are you sure, Kenshin?" The young kendoka wondered. "It's really not worth it ..."

_This is the first time he ever gets involved in one of my classes! He has never accepted to train with me, or even to give advice to Yahiko before..._

"This one insists. "

He put himself in position immediately, to everyone's surprise. The students had spontaneously formed a small circular group around them, curious to see the abilities of the redhead who lived with their master. As for Kaoru, she was as shocked as her students.

"Hajime! "

His voice was definitely not honeyed, and Gyosei felt for a moment the dark authority of a powerful ki. He resumed his kata, this time reproducing it very carefully. The wanderer dodged all his blows without any difficulty, not bothering to lift his shinai or even change the position of his body. Then, half-way through the exercise, at the exact moment when he had previously tried to hit the kendoka at her ribs, the samurai vigorously pressed his foot between the boy's and mowed his leg with a dry gesture. Gyôsei crashed face down at full speed.

"Kenshin!" Kaoru immediately glared daggers at him.

The boy got up with difficulty, surprised at his sudden fall, having seen absolutely nothing. He would probably be rewarded later by a good bump on the head.

"Hey, that -that was not planned!" He groaned, rubbing his chin where a small hematoma was already forming.

"You deserved it!" Replied Yahiko, openly laughing. He, too, had not missed the gesture tempted against his master just now.

"A kenjutsuka must be ready for any eventuality. "The redhead calmly replied, hanging up the shinai on the wall. "That's why it is helpful to be focused on any exercise, as basic as it appears. "

The former Master of the Kamiya Kasshin gave him a complicit but accusing look.

_He did it on purpose ..._

She came near the samurai, partly amused by his possessive reaction and partly annoyed by his hint of authority and the punitive gesture that followed against her disciple.

"Kenshin," she murmured, "I'm able to correct my own students by myself. "

"This one knows, that he does. "

"Don't try to play the innocent with me..."

"Oro? Please forgive me, Kaoru-dono. This one will resume cleaning." He said, scratching his head, adopting a resilient posture. Challenging a kendo teacher in her own school was never a good idea.

"You'd better! "

The class then resumed to a normal rhythm, and the pupils of the Maekawa dojo as much as the one of the Kamiya dojo, redoubled their ardor in the execution of their katas. Definitively, Gyôsei would be wary of housekeepers.

* * *

Despite the recent building of a railroad between the two cities, the Tôkaidô road, more than 500 kilometers long, linking Kyoto to Tokyo in more than 50 relays - without forgetting Osaka and Kobe - was still very popular, mostly because modest people did not have enough money to buy a train ticket. It was dotted with thriving inns and abandoned checkpoints since the end of the Meiji era and the reunification of modern Japan. Its creation a long time ago had allowed the trade to prosper all along the coastal path, this axis having remained several centuries during the most traveled of Japan.

About two weeks of travel were needed to cross this road on foot without horse or palanquin, ridiculous and useless attributes in the eyes of the thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi, but by rushing only ten days would be necessary for the man to complete the journey. To have large legs and a developed musculature, fruits of a rigorous training for decades, had proved useful in many situations.

_And the faster I will go, the faster I will get rid of this crowd ..._

But while Hiko was only barely getting close to Kusatsu, second stop of the above-mentioned route, his sharp hearing suddenly detected the cry of a young boy, as if smothered by ...

_...Leaves?_

He moved instinctively towards a tree-lined massif at the entrance to the village. Above a Scots pine, half masked by thorny branches at almost 15 meters high, a small body was leaning dangerously towards the void.

"Help!"

"... what's your name, kid?" Hiko shouted from the bottom of the tree, very curious to know the name of the one who'd had the imbecility to climb higher than he knew how to get off.

"Toshiro, but ... HELP ME FINALLY! I'M GONNA FALL!"

The boy was desperately clinging at a medium-sized branch, which was already emitting dangerous crackling sounds. He was covered with green goads. Hiko found the scene in front of his eyes rather funny.

"Patience, kid, you don't have to be afraid when I'm right below you."

"Huh?"

With that, the master jumped several meters high, lifting the dust at his feet to land on a branch halfway from the child. He quickly made his way towards him, clutching the trunk with dexterity. Then came a moment when it was too thin to support his weight, and Hiko stopped his progress.

"Let yourself fall."

"No, I can't ..."

"Let yourself go, fool, I told you I was right below!"

"HUWAAAAAH"

The young boy did not have to execute the said move because the branch that supported him suddenly yielded, obliging the master to throw himself immediately in the emptiness to catch him. They landed on the ground with a crash but no damage, since Seijuro held the boy in his arms with a perfect squatting position. You don't become thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi for nothing, see.

He laid the child on the ground and dusted his coat disdainfully.

"So, Toshiro... what kind of stupid reason did cross your mind to have you climbing on a tree ten times higher than you?"

_Not that I really care about it..._

Toshiro waited a few moments to regain his breath and his balance, then devoured with an indescribable intense gaze the imposing brown man in a white cape that had so spectacularly restrained his fall.

"It's my dog, Mochi... He ran away several weeks ago, and since then we've been staying at the hostel in order to find him ..."

The boy's face darkened sadly. From Hiko's point of view, he was only going to babycry.

_They must have money to afford themselves to be stuck here for so long, just for an animal ... I guess these are the benefits of this carefree Meiji era._

"..You know, everyone loves him at home, he's part of our family. I thought climbing up this tree would give me a better view of the valley ..."

"It was a silly idea."

"He was scared by that damn raven!" continued the boy, as if to defend himself. "Mochi goes crazy every time he sees one ; you see, a bird attacked him when he was a puppy, and since then he has always been afraid of it!"

_Stupid master, stupid dog ..._

"I did not ask you for so much information ..." Hiko pointed out, his annoyance growing.

Toshiro suddenly looked up at his savior.

"Oh, I'm so rude ... You helped me, and I don't even know your name?"

"Niitsu Kakunoshin ... I'm a potter."

Even to a child, Seijuro Hiko did not reveal his true identity. Never. Precaution of thirteenth Hiten Mitsurugi's master, a school that had survived for several centuries with only one disciple and one name.

"Po ... potter?"

Toshiro could not believe his ears. This man was so muscular and agile ... Potters suddenly rose high in his esteem.

"Please come to the inn with me. My parents and my little sister are there and my father is an art dealer, he will surely give you money to thank you."

"That's nice, kid, but I'm in a hurry."

Hiko had no desire to hang out in this rotten shed, let alone meet other people.

"Just be careful next time."

"Yes sir!"

Toshiro greeted the great ceramist very low, who went on his way as quickly as possible, silently muttering against reckless kids climbing the trees and wasting his time. One stupid apprentice was enough.

* * *

Saito was fuming. They had a lot of trouble collecting data on this case, and he still had no tangible track. During these last weeks the agents deployed to the field had returned once again with shreds of information without concrete link to each other. Children were disappearing, mainly in remote villages and poor areas of Japan. In most cases they were orphans, making it hard to identify and even account for them. Nobody claimed their bodies, and few people cared about them.

_The number of disappearances is probably wildly underestimated ..._

He took a puff from his cigarette. A dirty habit inherited from Westerners.

_They may simply have died of starvation and their corpses would have been left aside in the absence of a loved one to bury them._

Unfortunately, some disappearances were oddly localized. And Saito did not believe in coincidences.

_What use would a group of kids without connection be?_

This case did not make any sense. He was turning that same question again and again in his mind, spinning impatiently around his desk. Outside his window, afar in his visual field a little girl was holding a puppy on a leash. An Akita, probably, judging by its already imposing size despite its young age. It was then that he was wandering on this innocuous reflection that an unhealthy idea began to germinate in his mind...

_...A human trafficking?_

* * *

They were roaming into the streets of former Edo, still noisy despite the late hour. One of the pleasant changes of this new era, in comparison with the desperately empty alleys of Kyoto as soon as the day was off during Bakumatsu, noted the wanderer. Night had fallen and the red glow of Izakaya's lanterns alternated with the fleeting flashes of candles entrenched inside the intimate houses of wood and clay. Their path consisted ofwide, animated passages as much as of narrow lanes, where the single shadow of the crescent moon gave the high stone walls an almost threatening look. The brawler had his hands in his pockets and was chatting about futile things on the way : this cuttie here had pretty eyes, the fish dealer there yet open rather looked like he was selling junk... He was smiling while walking, obviously relaxed, stretching his long legs covered with badly trimmed trousers to the front. The other man, smaller and older, remained silent most of the time, but was following him at a good pace. With his face somewhat lowered, only the slight wind that sometimes played among its red strands could discover his deep azure eyes.

It had become one of their rituals. Strange, how a friendship can be forged between two persons of a different generation, bound by a visceral fighting instinct and the trials that life had put in their path. Going out in such a regular basis was granting them with privileged moments between friends, far from the sometimes suffocating female agitation of the dojo where the samurai lived.

"... Hey, are ya even listenin' to me when I speak?"

He raised his head, suddenly thrown out of his thoughts.

"Gomenasai Sanosuke..."

The samurai let his words linger in the fresh air of spring. His eyes were still dark.

_Kenshin doesn't seem like himself tonight... my job to cheer him up!_

Sanosuke Sagara logically decided to take his mind off the brooding by using the best way he knew, a method that he believed had been proven in any age and any individual.

"Well, whaddya think about givin' a good hit into a woman tonight?"

"ORO?"

The wanderer gave him a meaningful, almost comical glare.

"This one does not value violence against women." he said seriously.

"Oh my, you're so straight, Kenshin! Relax a little!" He gave him a big pat on the back. "I only meant to have sex with a woman, if ya see what I'm talkin' about!"

"Oro? This one still does not see the interest, that he does." The samurai blushed discreetly, but seemed however to consider the proposition for brief a moment. "Besides, Kaoru-dono would be furious ..."

"Kami-sama, how can ya be so austere... Okay, let's have a drink instead!"

They were approaching a place with warmer vibes. Sanosuke went on with an exaggerated cheering tone :

"This spot will be perfect!"

He lowered his head and lifted the entrance's curtain of the small building which seemed almost out of time. The atmosphere was more hectic inside than outside - not to mention noisy. As soon as they had taken their seats near a window, the two buddies were knocking back fermented rice beverage shots together, one of the rare local alcohol on this isolated island of the Far East.

"Ya don't speak much tonight." He corrected himself. "I mean, ya're chattin' even less than usual."

The redhead sighed, annoyed by this display of hidden questions, before swallowing his saké.

"Sano... This one is just a bit tired, that's all."

With an absent gesture he handed the cup to his friend anew.

"I'm already used to do most of the talkin'," he continued, serving him, "but now that's a one-way dialogue."

Without paying more attention to his remarks, Kenshin emptied this new cup in one gulp, his cerulean gaze still lost on the outside agitation. Sanosuke stared at him, dumbfounded.

"And ya have a hellish thirst tonight, nothin' to compare with that fuckin' restrained behavior ya have with Jou-chan or the others."

"Ah, sorry..." He scratched the back of his head and forced a smile as he turned back to his friend.

"Give up the excuses, these drink're on me for once;" he smiled, elbowing the red-haired, "Want another?"

"Huh, I guess..."

He hesitated, then handed his glass again. It was like any other promptly emptied, but his attention never truly returned to the current conversation.

Sanosuke was peering at him silently. He knew that if the wanderer did not want to talk he would get absolutely nothing from him. This man could have a head harder than steel and was naturally not eager to confide. Although it was annoying him strongly (he was officially impatient), he had learned over years to get the best of it : it was better to spend a good time together and leave those problems until later on when he would feel ready to speak - if such a moment ever existed in this life. That's why he maintained the conversation on his own, Kenshin just nodding now and again.

The smell of saké was surrounding the small building enclosed between two other inns. Its wooden tables, worn but friendly, were covered with sticky and odorous traces resulting from the strong passage of individuals throughout the day. The evening continued until numerous bottles were emptied. Nothing unusual for the fighter accustomed to this kind of trip, but much more unnatural for his companion who appreciated so much self-control. He had swallowed the majority of the drinks served without really paying attention, under the half-amused eye of his friend.

_Yep, definitely, somethin's wrong._

"... ya better stop here, don't ya think?"

It did not sound like the brawler at all to restrain others' consumption, but something didn't seem right in the samurai's behavior tonight, and he did not like it.

"Hmm." Kenshin put his glass down, awkwardly dropping his elbow on the table. "Let's go."

He got up with the help of his left arm and crossed the door, head bowed.

Sanosuke was following him closely. The samurai had a slightly feverish and unsteady walk. For an innocent eye his balance would seem perfectly normal, but for the trained eye of someone who knew the precise and agile moves of the fighter like the back of his hand, there was no doubt about it : he was dead drunk.

Sanosuke took place at his side while discreetly positioning himself in the background to be able to catch him in case of fall.

"I never saw ya drink this much..."

"Gomenasai" he mumbled

"Stop apologizing all the time, it's becomin' really annoyin' t-"

The wanderer suddenly lost his balance, stumbling on a misplaced pebble. Sanosuke narrowly caught him by placing his arm under his belly.

"Baka, I'll take you back to the dojo."

"... Arigato, S-Sano"

The fighter put his arms around his friend's shoulders, and while supporting most of his weight, walked on the pavement carefully. The wind that had gotten colder by now was playing melody against the surrounding silence, between the leaves of trees barely lit by the nocturnal star. They stopped several times on the way so that the redhead could empty the contents of his stomach, implicitly helped by his friend to stabilize him. As he watched the samurai folded in half, his hair stuck to his face, Sanosuke was thoughtful.

No more words were exchanged that night between the two men. Only the sound of occasional regurgitation and settas hitting the ground punctuated their march.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter : Enemy of my enemy


End file.
